


the one with baz's ridiculous beauty routines

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: Snowbaz Drabbles [10]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Drabble, Ficlet, M/M, Post-Canon, vampire skin care routines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 18:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19873948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: I knew Baz had some crazy specific daily routines while we were at Watford, he would spend upwards of an hour in the bathroom nearly every single morning, but I never really knew what they were.I knew he had umpteen million posh, nice-smelling products that crowded the counter and left just enough room for my little tube of toothpaste, toothbrush, and exactly one bottle of shampoo and one bar of soap. But I never really knew what they were for.---I can't even give this one an AKA title, because I just had to use the AKA title as the actual title





	the one with baz's ridiculous beauty routines

**Author's Note:**

> basically, I couldn't stop thinking about how Baz probably has some ridiculous long morning and night routines that he probably doesn't even need because of the vampire thing. Simon agrees. 
> 
> (A drabble I posted on Tumblr that I'll now transfer over here.)

I knew Baz had some crazy specific daily routines while we were at Watford, he would spend upwards of an hour in the bathroom nearly every single morning, but I never really knew what they were.

I knew he had umpteen million posh, nice-smelling products that crowded the counter and left just enough room for my little tube of toothpaste, toothbrush, and exactly one bottle of shampoo and one bar of soap. But I never really knew what they were for.

And then I moved in with Penelope, and she only had half as many bottles and products in the bathroom, I wasn’t sure what to do with all of that extra space. Until Baz started haunting our door day and night, just as he promised, and started leaving some of his posh products at our place as well.

“‘For skin rejuvenation’,” I read off one of the bottles, sat on the bathroom counter and watching Baz rub the cream over his face. “What have you got to rejuvenate? You’re hardly twenty _and_ you’re a vampire.”

“You and I both know twenty year olds with rough skin, Snow,” Baz starts, grabbing for another bottle. “And you were there the night we found Nicodemus. How many of those vampires could have benefitted from some proper skin care?” He pumps a dollop of the cream onto his hand and watches his own reflection as he massages it in. (He can see his reflection in the mirror. He was taking the piss that night he suggested he couldn’t, and I’ll never admit to another person how long it took for me to realize that.)

“You’ve great skin,” I tell him. I think he does at least. It’s not marred by moles and freckles and sun damage the way mine is, not that I’m that torn up over it. He is, though. Not in a ‘I’m Less Attracted To Your Terrible Skin’ way, but in a ‘You Could Be Doing Better’ way. He’s started making me wear sun cream daily, which is something I never considered. Obviously some SPF during the summer months made sense, and I typically didn’t forget it, but who knew the sun could be just as dangerous the rest of the year?

Baz knew. And I suppose that makes sense, he is a bit more sensitive to the sun than the rest of us.

But Baz’s skin doesn’t seem to have any flaws, at least none that I notice. His cheeks are smooth, soft, and even when we were younger and puberty had turned everyone around us into sweaty, hormonal, acne-ridden messes I can’t recall seeing a blemish. I figured it was a vampire thing, I had even added it to my list of reasons to believe he was a vampire.

“And why do you think that is?” Baz gestures to the bottles he’s got lined out in front of him.

“Well, I figured it was the vampire thing, didn’t I?” I mumble, but thanks to the vampire thing Baz hears me clearly and rolls his eyes. I immediately feel the need to defend myself, sitting one of his products down and raising my voice. “It wasn’t that outrageous a thought! Vampires are meant to be fit!”

“You think all dark creatures are fit,” he retorts. He’s moved on from his face, washes the residual cream from his hands and starts in on his hair, still damp from his shower.

“I do not,” I argue. Then, “S’not my fault a good lot of them _are_.”

“I knew you had a type, Snow, but I never realized it was exclusively non-human.”

“It’s not! I - _You’re_ human. And Chris Hemsworth is properly fit, he’s human.” Baz bypasses my comment on his humanity entirely, he almost always does.

“‘Course you’d be a Hemsworth fan,” he mutters.

“You can’t tell me being a vampire has no additional benefits to your complexion.” I bring the point right back around, because for some reason this is the hill I’ve chosen today. I’m not sure what I want to prove exactly, perhaps just that I was right to use that as evidence of his condition all those years ago? Perhaps I just want to win an argument. “You’re potentially immortal, that has to affect your skin and aging, or whatever.”

“You know fuck-all about vampires.” He’s working a second foamy product into his hair, not looking at me. And he’s right, I know fuck-all about vampires. But neither does he.

“Neither do you.”

He does look at me now. “Snow, if one of us were going to be an expert on the subject, I’m fairly certain it would be me.”

He’s not upset, if anything he looks entertained by the conversation. The corner of his mouth keeps twitching, like he wants to smile, but he won’t. I wish he would, but seeing the proof that he wants to is enough, because talking about vampires and his being one specifically has never been easy. Even after I knew, and after he confirmed it, it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about hardly ever. But we’ve been working on that, and now he’s sometimes to a point of even joking about it.

I think he’s accepted it now, as much as he can, at least. It still upsets him sometimes, he still has his moments, but we’ve worked through them together. Because he’s had to come to terms with vampirism just as much as I’ve had to come to terms with being Normal, and somehow having each other through that has helped both of us. A lot.

“What’s all that for, then?” I ask, changing the subject back to his routine, gesturing to the stuff he’s working into his scalp.

“Some of us take pride in our appearance, Snow. You’d do well to follow suit.”

“Could you stop being a twat for, like, five minutes?” I roll my eyes. “You’ve always had all this posh shit all over our room, and you always take so much time to get ready, I’m just trying to - to bond with you, or something.”

“Or something?”

“ _Baz._ ” He’s so infuriating I want to knock every single of these products to floor, grab him by the collar, and kiss him breathless right here on the bathroom counter. I don’t because Penny is in the other room, and she probably would not appreciate Baz and I getting up to anything in a shared space. Again.

Baz holds up the first can he used. “Mousse, it helps with volume and is the only thing that gets my hair even close to matching the way yours just naturally bounces. Otherwise it’s just flat, which was fine when I was combing it back every day but someone told me they liked it better this way.”

I hum, a smile on my face, as I reach out to run my fingers through Baz’s hair. It’s surprisingly soft despite how much it looks like he puts in it, and still a bit wet, but I do like the way it falls around his face. I pull him closer, spreading my knees apart as he moves between them, right in front of me. His hands rest on my thighs and I bring my other hand up to gather his hair at the back of his head.

“I like when you wear it back, too, like in a little bun.” I say quietly. His face is close and I have to remind myself again that Penny is in the other room, it’s a hard fact to remember when I can feel Baz’s breath against my cheek. “Makes you look like a right hipster, doesn’t it? You could get us coffee and vinyls from one of those underground shops.”

“That’s your type then, man buns? Explains Hemsworth.”

I roll my eyes. “ _You’re_ my type, you fucking numpty.” I lean in and kiss him, Penny’s presence be damned. “Even if you waste your time trying to improve your already flawless vampire skin.”

He laughs against my lips. “You’re impossible.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see other drabbles I've written, or wanna send me a prompt for another, or just wanna talk, find me on tumblr: @pipsqueakparker 
> 
> I'm essentially always taking prompts, and I may not end up posting all of those to AO3, or maybe one day I will. Who knows. My point is, if you want more content than just what I end up posting here head over to my tumblr!


End file.
